


know you could be a hero ('cause we seen you do it)

by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep



Series: i'm coming home now (right where i belong now) [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Duke Thomas Week 2020, Duke Thomas is Robin, Duke Thomas-centric, Fluff, Gen, Reverse Robin AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26265121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep/pseuds/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep
Summary: Bruce was not ready to be a father. Which was fine, really. He was 23 years old, and Duke didn’t want a new father. His parents were still alive, after all, and the boy constantly insisted that they would get better and he would go to live with them again.Bruce would never tell Duke that he had his doubts. It had been a year since they went missing, six months since they had been found. In those six months, there had been no improvement at all in their condition. They didn’t even recognize their son every Sunday when Bruce took him to go see them and sat outside in the hall for an hour, listening to Duke as the boy started out happily rambling and inevitably ended the visit quiet and holding back tears.Duke didn’t want a new father. And Bruce didn’t want to take that hope out of the little boy’s eyes.
Relationships: Duke Thomas & Bruce Wayne
Series: i'm coming home now (right where i belong now) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908274
Comments: 16
Kudos: 107





	know you could be a hero ('cause we seen you do it)

Duke stepped nervously into the house. He looked up at the man whose hand rested on his shoulder. Bruce Wayne was tall, and kind of old, and wouldn’t usually be scary if Duke didn’t know that he was really Batman.

But Bruce looked down, and he smiled. It was a little weird-he looked like he didn’t know how to do it very well. Something eased in Duke’s chest just a little bit. As an even older man in a suit approached them, Duke decided that he would try to help Bruce smile a little more. Just until Duke’s parents got better and he could go home.

* * *

Bruce was not ready to be a father. Which was fine, really. He was 23 years old, and Duke didn’t want a new father. His parents were still alive, after all, and the boy constantly insisted that they would get better and he would go to live with them again.

Bruce would never tell Duke that he had his doubts. It had been a year since they went missing, six months since they had been found. In those six months, there had been no improvement at all in their condition. They didn’t even recognize their son every Sunday when Bruce took him to go see them and sat outside in the hall for an hour, listening to Duke as the boy started out happily rambling and inevitably ended the visit quiet and holding back tears.

Duke didn’t want a new father. And Bruce didn’t want to take that hope out of the little boy’s eyes.

* * *

Alfred could admit, even just to himself, that little Master Duke was the light that had been needed in the Manor. At first, he had been against Master Bruce bringing home a child; it had been years since Master Bruce himself was nine, and with his lifestyle, Alfred’s boy wasn’t the most suited for children.

But Master Duke _helped_. He breathed life back into a Manor that had slowly been growing stagnant, whether he was sitting quietly at the small desk that had been placed in Master Bruce’s office to do homework, or running into the kitchen to ask Alfred any manner of questions, or even on the days when he went out to explore the forests, racing back up to the Manor with little creatures held gently in his hands to show off to his guardians.

Of course, the boy had his bad days as they all did. Those usually consisted of finding some area to curl up and cry, whether under the covers of his bed, in an armchair in the library, or notably, Master Bruce’s closet. When they had discovered the boy in the latter area, Alfred had told Master Bruce that it was a good sign; that the child was coming to trust them, to seek out familiar scents for comfort. Master Bruce had not replied, but when he picked up the tearstained sleeping little boy to place him in his bed, he had left the overly large sweater wrapped around the tiny body.

Though Alfred didn’t know it, even years later Bruce’s clothes would be comfort items for all of his children, from the eldest still haunted by the blood on his hands to the youngest who still heard the snap of a line breaking under too much weight.

* * *

“Bruce!” Duke cried. Bruce barely had a moment to brace himself before the boy clambered up onto the large bed, crawling over to hover above Bruce’s prone body. “You’re awake!”

To Bruce’s alarm, Duke’s eyes began to well up with tears.

“Duke,” He groaned, struggling to sit up. He settled against his pillows, pulling the boy close and humming softly. He ignored the pain that sunk into his unused muscles, rubbing the small back with one broad hand. Duke had been living with him for a year now-how did he still seem so small, enough for Bruce to encompass in his arms?

“You can’t do that,” Duke hiccoughed. “Y-you can’t leave me too, B-bruce,”

“Oh, honey,” Bruce sighed, doing his best to gently rock back and forth. “Shh. Duke, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I heard them. The d-doctors. They said my parents wouldn’t ever be better,” Duke wept. Bruce’s heart broke in his chest even as anger rushed his veins. The doctors should know better than to discuss that where there was even a chance of being overheard.

“There’s always a chance, sweetheart. But even if they got better today, you would stay with me for a while. It would take them some time to feel good enough to take care of you again.”

“I already lost my mom and dad,” Duke sniffled. He looked up to catch Bruce’s eyes. “Please don’t make me lose you too.”

“You won’t lose me, Duke. It was a mistake. But I’m fine now, honey. I’m going to be okay.”

“Iwannagooutwithyou,” the boy mumbled, ducking his head.

“What was that?” Bruce asked. Duke cleared his throat, wiggling until Bruce let him sit back some.

“I said,” he started slowly. “I want to go out with you.”

“No,” Bruce shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Bruce-”

“It’s too dangerous, Duke!”

“You need a partner!”

“You’re my SON!”

The words hung in the air between them.

Finally, Bruce sighed, looking down at his lap, where his hands still cupped two small dark ones. “I know you don’t want another father. And I don’t want to replace him. But you’re my son, Duke. I don’t want you to risk your life going out with me.”

“I can’t just sit here!” Duke shook his head. “You need backup. I can-I can stay out of the fights until you say I’m ready!”

“Duke-”

“Dad, please,” Duke said desperately. Bruce’s chest seized.

“Not until you’re at least thirteen,” He finally agreed. “You have to do exactly as I say, and you can’t go out unless you have the proper equipment and you’ll be safe. Understood?”

“Thank you,” Duke said. He smiled, then, reaching forward to hug Bruce. Bruce tugged him closer, holding his boy-holding his _son_ until he fell asleep.

* * *

“Bruce, look!” Duke called, bounding out of the changing room. Bruce was already mostly suited up, ready for patrol, but he still held the cowl and cape in his hands.

Duke wasn’t going out—it had only been three months since they agreed, and Duke was just about to turn 11. Accordingly, Bruce was wearing his winter suit, ready for Gotham’s cold December nights.

But Duke was wearing his new costume, designed in whispers between himself and Alfred, accompanied by pushing Bruce away if he tried to sneak a peek.

“Wow, kiddo,” Bruce said, setting his things down on the table. He wore a black cape, yellow on the inside, with a red armored tunic and dark green pants tucked into black boots. “Looking good.”

“You think so?” Duke smiled. Duke had one of those smiles that just made you need to smile back, and as always, Bruce gave in to temptation. Apparently, that was answer enough as the boy continued chattering. “We decided on my name, too!”

“Hmm,” Bruce answered, looking closely as Duke came to a stop in front of him, holding out something. It was a metal circle, with a stylized R in the middle. Duke suddenly looked smaller. Bashful. “I’m gonna be Robin.”

“Why Robin?” Bruce asked. Duke shrugged. “Why not Robin?”

“Well,” Bruce said dryly. “I suppose I can’t argue with that astounding logic.”

Duke grinned once again, tempting another smile from Bruce. “Batman and Robin. Sounds good, honey.”

As he said it, Bruce reached for Duke’s shoulder, taking the insignia and pressing it into place on Duke’s armor.

“Be careful tonight,” Duke said, like always.

“I promise,” Bruce nodded, sliding the cowl on. Batman looked down at his soon-to-be partner. “I’ll see you when I get back, Robin.”

* * *

For the most part, Duke was able to hold to his promise to wait until he was thirteen to officially go out with Batman. Although both Alfred and Bruce hated it, sometimes Duke was simply the only option to go out and retrieve his father from the field, throwing down smoke bombs and other things that distracted long enough to extract Batman to the Batmobile. He’d gone out enough times that by the time he was thirteen, there were already whispers around Gotham of the boy that wore armor and appeared in the Bat’s shadow.

So on the night of his thirteenth birthday, Batman and Robin suited up for their official first patrol.

In the two years that had passed since he designed his suit, Duke had gone from being an only child to being a brother—to having two brothers. The suit had also gone through some changes—it covered more skin now, including a sleek black helmet with a visor of blacked-out glass. It was one thing for Bruce Wayne and his son, Duke Thomas-Wayne, to have different skin colors. It would be a suspicious connection for Batman and Robin to be the same as the Waynes, so Duke covered up his skin. Batman's suit remained the same, but he had also added a helmet; it helped with identity issues and honestly (in Duke's opinion) made him look that much creepier. 

Those brothers were bickering now, as they constantly did, Tim whip-smart and Damian constantly looking to prove himself better.

“Father, I should be able to go out with you-” Damian snarled.

“No way, Dad! That’s not fair!” Tim argued. Batman raised an eyebrow at Robin, who nodded.

“Thirteenth birthday was the rule. You better not have made me wait just to let them go out early,” Robin said.

“Your brothers have spoken, Damian. You have to be thirteen, that’s the rule.” Batman agreed. Damian huffed and headed for the stairs, pushing past Robin. “Damian-”

“Let it go,” Robin interrupted. Batman sighed (a common occurrence now that he was up to three sons) and indeed let it pass, going to speak with Alfred and leaving Tim with Robin.

“I made these for you,” Tim said, holding out a package. Robin wasn’t sure where he’d been holding it before, but he took it and tore off the paper. He gaped as he looked down at his new escrima sticks, black with dark yellow grips and the Robin R impressed on the bottoms.

“Tim, these are great,” Robin grinned. “Thank you.”

“Here,” Tim grabbed something from the table—a harness—and helped Robin shrug it on, slotting the escrima into place. Robin rolled his shoulders, settling the new weight.

“Robin!” Batman called, standing at the Batmobile.

“Coming!” Robin called. He held a fist out to his brother, and they both grinned as Tim pounded it. Without further ado, Robin headed for the Batmobile, only just glancing up at the eyes he could feel watching him from the top of the stairs.

* * *

“Ready?” Batman murmured. Robin nodded, perched on a beam at the top of the warehouse. Batman grasped his shoulder for a moment, then turned. He swept off to his own position with a flap of his cape, and Robin was left alone. He reached into his belt for a smoke bomb but pulled out something new instead. It was small and black, with a single button, and he had never seen it before.

Robin nearly laughed when he realized why Damian had pushed past him earlier. He pressed the button and the lights cut out, allowing him to drop to the ground.

They flickered back on. The goons began shouting in surprise as they noticed him. Despite the guns pointed in his direction, he wasn’t afraid.

“Who are you?” One of them sneered.

The new escrima sticks slid out smoothly and Robin readied his stance. “I’m Robin.”

He let out a laugh as the lights went black.

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, big thanks to [MrMich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrMich/works) for letting me infodump and talk things out, and also for beta-ing this fic! I don't usually upload fics so closely to one another-my muse doesn't really work that way. But when I started considering a Reverse Robin AU, I had to write it, especially because most Reverse Robins leave out Duke!  
> The timeline for this series is gonna be a little screwy, but we'll get through it together! I can't wait to share the stories of how Bruce gained his other children in this universe.  
> This is, of course, my work for [Duke Thomas Week 2020](https://duketectivecomics.tumblr.com/post/623674983039778816/once-again-huge-thank-you-to-dykecassandrawayne), and it also fills the 'Found Family' square on my [Batman Bingo 2020 card](https://iwillstaywiththemforever.tumblr.com/post/628192033081851904/here-is-my-batman-bingo-2020-card-i-got-it-back)!  
> The title is from Way Up by Jaden on the Spider-verse soundtrack, and the series title is from Home by Vince Staples on the same soundtrack.  
> Downloads are fine but please don't repost this work anywhere else without my permission!  
> Love you guys!


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